The Way To You
by foreverlasting24
Summary: Maybe I'll dig it up one night and realize that it's a huge map pointing the way to you. Whatever it does, it's here to stay.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hey guys! My name is Jay. I was feeling a bit nostalgic while watching reruns of Ned's Declassified and decided to put some rambles on paper. This is what came out of it._

_Note: This takes place in an alternate future (the gang is 16, in 11th grade) where Moze & Ned never started going out at the end of the middle school. Though I loved the finale, I wanted to make the union of these two a little bit more tumultuous and complicated. Hope you like! I have four chapters put up thus far; I plan to write ten. Reviews are much appreciated, as always._

* * *

_**TIP 1: Don't be the jealous best friend and ruin her dates. **_

"I don't get it," Cookie says, a little too loudly. "Why are we spying on Moze and Loomer?"

"I _told_ you," I answer irritably. "I'm pretty sure Loomer stole my sunglasses out of my car the other day."

Cookie stares at me, disbelief in his eyes. We are at Jo Burgers, sitting at a booth a few tables away from Moze and Loomer, who are too far away to spy on successfully, but too close to opt out our very convincing disguises.

"So let me get this straight," Cookie says, leaning onto the table, "you beg me to go out on a Friday night, put on a ridiculous Fedora hat and nun scarf, make me miss my own date with Lisa, just so you could get a pair of _sunglasses_ back?"

I'm not listening. Instead, I tilt my head out of the booth (discreetly, of course) to see Moze throw her head back and let out a guffaw; you know, the genuine laugh that she only does when she thinks something's really funny.

Cookie swings his hand in front of me. "Okay, Ned, what's really going on?"

I sigh, taking off my own disguise and admitting defeat. "All right, I'm keeping an eye on Moze, okay? I have a bad feeling about this guy."

"Is that bad feeling called jealousy?"

"What? No! Don't be ridiculous. Moze is my best friend. I'm just doing what a best friend would do."

"A _jealous_ best friend."

I shake my head, ignoring Cookie's ludicrousness. "I just don't trust Loomer, okay? He's been bad news ever since middle school. He dated Suzie, and she even said—"

Cookie rolls his eyes at the mention of my ex-girlfriend. "You can't take advice from Suzie Crabgrass. She was bad news herself."

He has a point. Suzie and I dated from middle school to the end of 10th grade. After all that time, though, she was the one who broke it off. I'm not going to lie: it was devastating. Sure, I've been told that your average high school relationship often gets hit with the brevity bug; few couples last more than two or three of months. But I thought Suzie and I were different. I thought that we'd be, well, forever.

Turns out, though, Suzie considered us something different. "I think that we're made to be good friends, Ned," she had said to me. "The truth is, my heart belongs to someone else. It's always belonged to him, and I can't believe it took me this long to realize."

"Who?" I remember murmuring, too astounded and hurt to even care about the answer.

"Coconut Head," she said, like it should have been obvious.

But even though it took me months to get over her, our break up had to be the best thing that ever happened to me. When I was free of Suzie, I began to see other things. After I finally stopped thinking of Suzie every moment of the day, I saw that life could be just as good without her. I started to do things I'd left behind when I was dating Suzie, like eating cheese dogs and not having to worry about what it'll do to your breath, or playing video games until the wee hours of the morning instead of paying for another chick flick at the movies. Most of all, though, I started spending more valuable time with Moze and Cookie and remembered just exactly what I missed the most.

"Plus, Ned," Cookie says now, breaking my thoughts, "you don't even know Loomer. And this is only the first date."

"Yeah, but Loomer was a total ass in the 8th grade. Moze wasn't even interested. Why is she giving him a chance now?"

"People change."

It's funny hearing Cookie say this, of all people. I grew taller, but kept all attributes pretty much the same (including the whole guide thing). Moze was always evolving, in every way possible; everything she was in middle school, she was in high school, only magnified. She was taller, smarter, and more beautiful, if that was even possible.

But Cookie remained the same. He was still the same dorky, techy, and intelligent person that kept the three of us as humble and grounded as possible. The biggest difference is that he finally got the girl he'd be after all these years: Lisa Zemo.

"Look, you wouldn't be here if you didn't care about Moze," Cookie continues, but I begin zoning out as I notice Loomer reaching across the table and covering Moze's hand with his. "But I think you're getting really carried away here. I don't think Loomer has anything to do with why you're freaking out about the whole thing. You're jealous—"

"I'm not jealous," I insist quickly, sticking my head out a little more. Loomer's back is to me, but I can tell that he is leaning closer. Moze's face is uncertain, but she closes her eyes.

"You definitely are. If you're not jealous, then—"

Without hesitation, I stand up, my blood suddenly boiling and my legs flying forward.

"Ned?" I hear Cookie yelling behind me, as I move aggressively towards Moze and Loomer's table. "Ned! Where are you going? Are you out of your mind? Ned!"

But I don't hear him. I'm only a few feet away from their table when suddenly, I trip over the lumpy carpet under my feet and crash right into a waiter, who is carrying two full places with juicy cheeseburgers and fries. In incomprehensibly quick moments filled with many motions, the waiter loses his balance and sends the burgers flying into the air and onto Loomer's very nice and probably expensive polo shirt, while I stumble to the ground and writhe from the impact of the collision.

"Aw man. My clothes!" Loomer's voice rings in my ears, as I struggle to sit up.

"Ned? Is that you?"

My eyes fly open to see Moze looking down at me from her seat. I rub my head, already shooting myself from my lack of rationality tonight. "Shit."

A second later, Cookie is at my side. "Ned! Jeez, I saw the whole thing. Are you okay?"

I glance over at him, then back at the table. The poor waiter is trying to get the stains off Loomer, who looks angry and annoyed. Meanwhile, Moze is just staring down at me, confusion and hurt and concern etched on her face all together.

"Okay," I admit softly to Cookie. "Maybe I am a little jealous."


	2. Chapter 2

_**TIP 2: Cookie doesn't know best**_

All right, so I'll admit it. I may have feelings for Moze. But just because that's the case certainly does not mean I'm ready to put those feelings on the table. When I express this to Cookie, he insists that he knows idealistic ways to get a girl without having to get all emotional and weepy (and he proves his point by bringing up the fact that he'd been able to score his dream girl while I "got dumped by a selfish psycho").

"Be the tough guy," he advises, when we are at our lockers before first period. "Loomer is tough. He can strangle every kid in this hallway if he wanted to. He can get away with trashing the library because the principal is afraid of him. If you want to compete with that, you've got to step up your game."

I look down at myself. There isn't much competition if Moze is looking for the bad boy type. I mean, Loomer is the motorcycle-riding, tough-talking, yet write-my-daily-love-poems sort of guy. And me? Well, I'm a tall, lanky dude with faded jeans and an old pair of blue Chucks. They aren't exactly along the same lines.

"That's not going to work," I say, shaking my head. "I'm not a tough guy, never will be. Besides, Moze will see right through me."

"Not if you're convincing enough," Cookie responds, shooting me a devilish look. "Look, Moze is seeing Loomer now. Everyone knows it. So what have you got to lose? When you see Moze, you have to give every reason why you're the better option. Show that Loomer's a big hunk of nothing, and you're everything she wants. And right now, that's a tough guy."

I grab my book out of my locker. "I've got to get to class. Later, Cook."

"Suit yourself," he calls out, as I blend into the crowd.

* * *

"Ned, there you are."

I look up at Moze, who finds me under a tree at the lunch courtyard of Polk High School. I've been avoiding her the past few days, and judging by the expression on her face, she knows it. "Oh hey," I say, twirling my turkey sandwich in my hand awkwardly. "What's up?"

"Nothing, it's just…" She takes a seat beside me on the grass, staring back at me with those big brown eyes. "I think we should talk about what happened the other night."

"What's there to talk about?"

"Well, let's see," she says, smiling slightly, "You come out of nowhere and nearly killed yourself by banging into a waiter. Then you run away and pretend like it didn't happen."

She does not mention Loomer, which gives me a bit of reassurance. "Well, when you put it that way, it does sound kind of crazy."

Moze laughs. The genuine kind. "I know you like to keep things interesting. But I just wanted to make sure, are you okay?"

I'm quiet for a few seconds. I'm looking at Moze, the sunlight hitting her face just right, and suddenly, everything is clear. It's kind of like jumping into the pool for the first in the summer. It's cold at first, and you're frozen in place for what feels like forever, but slowly, you start moving, and suddenly, you know exactly what you're doing, where you're going.

"Moze, I have to tell you something," I blurt.

She looks up questionably, and right then and there, I want to kiss her. "What?"

"I—"

"Jennifer!"

We both turn our heads to see Loomer striding over, fitted in a black leather jacket and baggy jeans that cannot seem to stay in its place. I grumble inwardly. The moment I decide to take a leap of faith – going purely on instinct, no less – something goes and stops me. And to my misfortune, it happened to be Loomer.

"I've been looking for you," Loomer says, giving Moze a quick kiss. He nods at me, all badass-like.

"Oh," Moze says, as Loomer sits down on the other side of her. "I'm just grabbing lunch with my best friend. You know Ned, right?"

Loomer doesn't look at me. "Sure I do. Look, babe." He whips out two small tickets from his back pockets. "I got us tickets for the greatest death metal band in the universe: Boiling Blood. It's this Saturday."

"Oh," Moze says, somewhat hesitant. "Okay. Sure, sounds… fun. Count me in."

"Great. I'll pick you up at seven."

Now, my own blood is boiling. All of a sudden – call it a hunch, or a voice, or another impulsive push – Cookie's words meander through my head.

Be the tough guy.

If you want to compete with that, you've got to step up your game.

Right then and there, I am armed with angry and jealous emotions I didn't even know I was capable of feeling. Specifically, I want to punch Loomer's guts out. Subconsciously, though – and without even fully realizing it – I realize that I do want to be the tough guy. I want to prove to Moze that I'll be the one there to guard her, even when she doesn't need the protecting.

My execution lacks, of course. I extend my arm back, intending on hitting Loomer's jaw (or at least some proximal part of his face), but instead, I end up punching the tree bark behind me and screwing up my finger knuckles. I swear under my breath.

"Ned!" Moze says, looking at me, flabbergasted, as I bite my lip at the sting of my swollen hand. "Are you okay? Why did you just… _attack_ a tree?"

"Dude," Loomer snickers. "Looks like you fought the tree, and the tree won."

"Come on, let's get you to the nurse," Moze says, ignoring Loomer's comment.

"I'm fine," I grumble, shaking her off.

"You're not," she argues, grabbing my arm tightly and helping me up. "I'll see you later, Billy."

As soon as we enter inside the school, Moze twists my arm back and swings me around so that I am facing her. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?" she snaps, giving me her no-nonsense face. "You could've hurt yourself, Ned, punching a tree like that."

"A little too late for that," I mutter acidly, slumping against the locker behind me.

"That was stupid. And senseless," she continues as she throws her hands up into the air and paces in front of me. "Possibly the stupidest, senseless-est thing you've ever done in your life, Ned Bigby."

"Why do you care? You've got Loomer now. No time for stupid, senseless ole me anyway."

She stops pacing and looks at me, smiling. "Oh my god. Are you jealous?"

"God damn it, why does everyone keep saying that? I'm not jealous!" I run my uninjured hand through my hair. "It's just, you're going out with Loomer all the time lately. We're just not spending as much time with each other as we used to."

"_You_ were the one avoiding _me_ last week," she shoots back.

I look at her, at lost for words. Finally, I sigh, and ask softly, "Why do you like that guy anyway?"

"Billy?" Her eyes glint as she shrugs, and I take in yet again just how beautiful she is. And with just as big of a force, I realize even more so that no matter how hard I try, I cannot have her. "I don't know. He can be so… tough sometimes. Like a big wall, you know? But for some reason, he makes me happy. He gets me. And I haven't felt like this since, well, Seth."

I wince at the mention of Moze's ex-boyfriend. Moze and Seth went out for as long as Suzie and I did, maybe even longer. Moze was always very vague about why they broke up, but all I know is that something didn't work, even though they tried so hard to make it to. It took Moze months to get over it. I remember going next door nightly with tubs of every kind of ice cream at the grocery store and a pretty high-class collection of chick flick movies (Mean Girls obviously at the top). But somehow, eventually, that ended up being enough to get Moze up and running again.

I think about this now and smile. "I'm happy he makes you happy," I say, and I try my best to mean it.

"Thanks." She blushes. "But you know, Ned, just because he and I are together doesn't me you and I can't hang out. You know that."

"I know," I tell her, pushing myself off the locker. "Now, let's go get some ice for my hand. It hurts like hell."

"You were never the tough guy." She laughs, as we loop our arms around each other and walk down the hallway. "But that's what I love about you."


	3. Chapter 3

_**TIP 3: What you can't said aloud can be written down.**_

Dear Moze,

Jeez, it's kind of weird writing you a letter, you know? Not that it's old-fashioned or anything. I mean, plenty of people still write letters. It's just weird because I know I'll never hit the send button. It kind of relieves the pressure, but I'm still imagining you'll receive this, in some way shape or form.

I saw this on an episode of Crazy Chuck. You that one, right? We used to watch it when we were in middle school. Chuck hates his boss, so Wilma tells him to send his boss an angry and hatred-filled email expressing his thoughts about why the job sucked. It helped get his feelings out, even though his boss never really got the message. It made everything a little better. Of course, though, when I'm writing this to you, there will be no anger or hatred or anything of that nature. Quite the opposite, really.

I hope that someday, I'll be able to tell you all of this in person. But the fact is, I'm not as brave as you think I am. Even so, I'll promise you one thing. I promise that every word I write in here will be honest, more truthful and goddamn real than anything I will ever write in my entire life. I haven't been lately, and with you, I need to be.

Huh. I'm laughing to myself already, because I've sat here for about an hour already and typed three paragraphs completely dodging what I wanted to say.

I was never really good at dodge-ball, anyway. You know that, right?

So here goes:

I'm in love with you, Moze.

I think I've always been in love with you, but was just too blind to realize it.

God, it sounds so cheesy, even when I'm typing it. But it's true. It's truer than anything I've ever known. Kind of like you.

Well, I'm about to save this message into my drafts folder, like a little reminder all tucked up. Maybe I'll read it in a few days or a few months or a few years, and finally summon up the courage to send it. Maybe I'll dig it up one night and realize that it's a huge map pointing the way to you. Whatever it does, it's here. And maybe that's all I can ask for right now.

Love always,

Ned


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: By far, my favorite chapter to write. If you got this far, an immense thank you to you!**  
**_

* * *

_**TIP 4: Don't call anyone a "two-timing, good-for-nothing, bastardy motherfucker," even if you mean it. **_

It is a Friday night in the middle of October, and I plan on spending it in my bedroom with a remote control and endless episodes of CSI. Cookie, however, is not having it.

"You are a sixteen year old teenager, and you'd rather stay cooped up inside your room watching shows you've already seen a thousand times than go to a wild party your two best friends are going to be at?"

"God, you sound just like my mom."

"This is serious, Ned." He takes the remote from my hand and turns off the TV. I sit up, giving him a what-the-fuck glare. "Come on, get up! Moze is already there."

"Exactly." I groan into my pillow.

Cookie looks at me, confused. "You don't want to see Moze?"

"Of course I do, you big dummy." I sigh, sitting up. "I don't want to see the asshole she's with."

"I thought you were over the fact that they're dating."

"No," I say shortly. "Moze thinks I'm okay with it. But the fact is, it's driving me _insane_."

Cookie shakes his head and sits beside me. "You know, I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"You somehow manage to make me both proud and disappointed in you all in the same moment."

I narrow my eyes in disbelief. "How do?"

"Well, I'm proud that it's been two months since Moze and Loomer started dating, and you haven't punched out the guy's guts–"

"Trust me, I've tried—"

"—but I'm disappointed that you _didn't_ punch out the guy's guts."

I know what Cookie means, even without having him explain every detail for me. But I am silent, resisting thoughts, because sometimes understanding something means realizing what you should have done. And there's no room in my chest for that kind of dismal regret tonight.

"Tell you what," cookie says, in his compensating voice. "Let's just go to the party. We'll get a little tipsy, dance with some girls we don't know, raid the pool, then we'll call it a night."

I raise my eyebrows, amused. Cookie somehow always manages to make me give in. "All right," I say. "I'm in."

* * *

The party is at Suzie Crabgrass's house.

Naturally, this is a little strange for me, mostly because I haven't talked to Suzie since we broke up (unless you count the infamously awkward hand waves in the halls). But nonetheless, no one was more shocked to see me here than Suzie herself.

"Ned!" she says as soon as she sees me, heading over. I see Cookie drifting discerningly towards the people dancing at the pool deck, and I shake my head at him. "Oh my god, you're here! I didn't think you'd be here."

"Well, here I am," I say, trying to smile.

"It's so good to see you! How are you? Here, let me get you a drink." Suzie leads me into the kitchen and hands me a Budweiser. "My parents aren't home. Some guy bought, like, a hundred bottles of beer."

I nod, disinterestedly looking around at the scene of the party. There are a few guys, drooling, knocked dead on the sofa. Some couples are making out in the far corners of the living room. A good hunk of guests, Cookie included, are frolicking around the poolside.

Suzie is still talking to me. "It's just that, Ned, I know things have been awkward between us for the last few months. And maybe that's my fault. But you have to know, I really cared about you. I wanted us to be friends—"

I stop listening as I spot Moze and Loomer walk across the living room, holding hands and smiling at each other. Moze looks beautiful, as usual, even though she's only in jeans and a t-shirt.

"…Ned? Hello? Ned! Are you listening?"

"Sorry, what were you saying?" I grunt, turning back at Suzie. But it is too late. Suzie had already followed my gaze, watching as Loomer not-so-discreetly leads Moze upstairs.

"Oh my god," Suzie says, looking back at me with wide eyes. But I am shaking my head, already denying what she is about to say. "I get it now. You're in love with Jennifer!"

"Shhhh," I say, putting a finger to my lips. "Jeez, not so loud."

"I knew it," Suzie says in a slight whisper, giggling. "I knew it all along that you were in love with her. Even when we were dating, there was always something freaky going on between you two."

"Suzie, will you please _shut up_?"

She rolls her eyes, hardly fazed. "What's the big deal, Ned? It was bound to happen. Everyone can see you're in love with Mosely. It was just you who couldn't."

"Maybe," I say, my head spinning from Suzie's words. Turns out regret got to me anyway. "But it's a little late, don't you think? She's with Loomer."

"Then why aren't you up there fighting for her?" Suzie says, hands on her hips. She looks genuinely interested and concerned about this, and I have to give her points for trying.

"Are you kidding me? I wouldn't stand a chance against Loomer. He's just better for her, in every way. And plus, she's happy."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Sure of what?" I ask, bewildered. Suzie opens her mouth to respond, but quickly closes it as she diverts her eyes towards the front entrance of her house. I turn around and see a short, mushroom-headed boy come through. When he spots Suzie, his mouth turns upright into a love-dazed grin.

"Oh, babe, you made it!" Suzie squeals, as Coconut Head makes his way towards us.

"Wait, Suzie, what were you saying—"

I'm interrupted as Suzie leans forward to give Coconut Head a wet, hungry kiss. They start to walk away from me, but Suzie surprises me by turning around and calling out my name.

"Love defeats all," she says, giving me a small smile. "You know why, Ned? Because it's worth fighting for." She tangles her fingers in Coconut Head's. "Good luck with Jennifer, Ned."

I watch her disappear into the crowd, reminding myself that I will never take advice from Suzie Crabgrass, no matter what.

Three minutes later, I am heading upstairs to go find Moze.

* * *

I've walked in on three couples, one of them being Cookie and Lisa.

"Dude, seriously?" I yell, shielding my eyes from the image of those two all over each other on the bed.

"Sorry, Ned, this is a private room..."

"Have either of you seen Moze?" I ask frantically.

"She was upstairs earlier with Loomer," Lisa offers, running a hand through her hair as she sits up.

"Ned, I thought you weren't going to—"

"I know, I know," I say quickly, looking at Cookie. "But I'm going to tell her."

Cookie cocks his head to the side. "Tell her what?"

"I'm going to tell her," I say, eyeing Lisa, who is looking at the ground, bored, "...the truth."

"Are you sure?" Cookie asks, raising his eyebrows.

"No," I admit softly. "But I'm doing it anyway. Have you seen her?"

"Last I checked, she went into the bedroom down the hall. It's been a while since then. I don't know if she's still in there."

I give Cookie a grateful look. "Thanks, man. You guys carry on."

Cookie shouts a curt "good luck!" before I shut the door behind me. I rush to the end of the hallway and stand outside the white-painted door. Slowly, I put my fingers over the metal knob and take a deep breath. _Be brave_, I say to my inner self. _This could change everything. _

But part of me doesn't want it to. Moze and I have been best friends for over a decade. What if this breaks us apart? What if we can't piece our friendship back together after I admit something this enormous out loud? I shake my head, unscrewing each excuse out of my head. There is no time for second thoughts tonight. Second chances, maybe. I breathe out and start turning the—

"Ned?"

I whip my head around at the familiar voice and stumble backwards when I see Moze right in front of me. "Moze!"

"I thought that was you," she says, grinning. "So Cookie managed to drag you out, huh?"

"What are you doing here?" I question stupidly.

"Well, I _was_ invited," she answers sarcastically. "I'm actually looking for Billy. Have you seen him?"

"No," I say, still taken aback. "I haven't. But actually, Moze, I wanted to—"

"Do you think he's in that bedroom?" she asks, pointing to the door behind me.

"Maybe, but Moze, I need to—"

She ignores this and moves around me to grab the doorknob. I reach out and stop her by grasping her hand with mine. This got her attention somewhat.

"Moze," I plead, squeezing her fingers. "I have to tell you something."

"What is it?" she asks, impatient but equally curious. "Just spit it out, Ned."

"Okay," I say, exhaling. I look into her big brown eyes and size myself up again. I had to get this right, or everything would fall apart completely. "I lo—"

"Hey guys."

I immediately stamp my foot on the ground and turn frustratingly around to face Suzie, who is standing in front of us with her arms around Coconut Head's waist.

"Mosely!" Suzie exclaims excitedly, ignoring my little tantrum. "Oh my god, I haven't seen you in forever!"

"I know," Moze says, smiling. "This party is awesome, Crabgrass."

"Thanks," Suzie says, and I cannot tell if she is being genuine or not. "I hate to break up this little confession—I mean, uh, _chat_—but my boyfriend and I would like some privacy in my bedroom right there."

Obediently, Moze and I step to the side to let Suzie and Coconut Head through. Swiftly, Suzie swings open the door, but quickly staggers backwards with a shriek when she sees two nearly naked people kissing passionately on her bed.

"What the hell?" Suzie shouts, outraged. "Get out! Get out _now_!"

As the couple breaks apart, I gasp. There, lying under lacy pink and purple bedsheets, are Missy Meanie and... wait, it can't be—

"Billy?" Moze's voice is quiet and strained as she steps forward, getting a better look at the guy who betrayed her.

"Ew, Billy? Billy Loomer?" Suzie squeals, flapping her hands around her face as if to scare away the disgust. "Get your _ass_ off my bed!"

"Oh boy," Coconut Head says hopelessly.

"Jennifer," Loomer says, clambering out of the bed as Missy shoots him an offended glare. "I can explain."

Moze steps back from Loomer. "How could you..." she starts, her voice quivering. She is standing right next to me, but I know that if I take one look at her hurt face, I will lose it. "How could you do this to me?"

"I'm sorry, I love you," he begs, stepping forward, and I wonder how on earth one could possibly put those two phrases together. "Jennifer, I do. I just... we were fighting. And I was_ really_ drunk. And it just felt like you were pushing me away..."

I am not even close to calm as all this chaos unravels. In fact, with every word that Billy Loomer utters out of his goddamn mouth, I feel myself getting more and more pissed off.

"Why? Because I wouldn't sleep with you?" Moze yells, trying to stay strong. "I wouldn't sleep with you, and you had to go fuck another girl twenty minutes later? God, I can't— I can't do this right now."

I look up at Moze, and my heart wrenches when I see tears welling up in her eyes. And suddenly, I cannot take it anymore. I lunge myself forward, catching Loomer's surprise, and knock the cheating ass-wipe to the ground.

I ram my fist into Loomer's face and shout out with each punch, "You... are a... two-timing... good-for-nothing... bastardy... motherfucker!"

My defense skills did not last for long. Before I could even register his motions, Loomer pushes me off him and onto the carpet beneath us. He draws his arm back, no mercy.

"Ned!" Moze cries, running towards us.

I look over at her, and she is the last thing I see before my world turns black.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey everyone. Here's a short little chappy of the Ned-Loomer aftermath. Thanks for reading. :)

* * *

_**TIP 5: Even when you think you've screwed up everything possible, look again. You might be surprised.**_

In the make believe world I've gardened in my head, I'm holding Moze. She is lying against me on her bed, sobbing into my chest, and I'm running my fingers through her long, brown hair. I attempt to sing her Rihanna's part in that Drake tune, and at the very last part, I whisper _I'll take care of you_, even though I know she'll argue that she doesn't need me to. I tell her that she deserves better, so much better, and suddenly, in the middle of my love-drunken words, she falls asleep soundly in my arms.

In the real world, though, things turned out a little differently. After I was knocked out by Loomer, instead of being at Moze's place and snuggling in her room, I'm lying on Suzie Crabgrass's sofa with a bloody, broken nose, and Moze is kneeling at the floor and trying to fix up my busted face with a first aid kit. Loomer and the rest of the party had apparently left hours ago, which left Suzie and Coconut Head in the kitchen, elbows deep in party evidence.

"Oh my god," I grunt, trying to sit up on the couch. I reach up and touch my temple, woozy. "What in the—"  
"Shhh," I hear Moze say, pressing on my shoulder gently. "Ned, just lie down."

I listen to her for once and ease myself back against the cushions. Slowly, I breathe out and close my eyes, drink in the shame. I can feel Moze's eyes on me, and not for the first time, I don't think I can handle looking into them.

Her voice creeps into my ears, just as soft and tender as I imagine her eyes would be. "Did you know?"

My eyes fly open, bemused. "Know what?"

Moze looks down at her fingers, which look like tangled spider legs. "Did you know about Loomer? Is that why you didn't want me to go into that room?"

"God, no," I say, trying to shake my head, but it just looks like my face is wobbling. "I had no idea, Moze, I swear."

She looks at me with her sad eyes, like she wants to say something more. I reach out and take her hand, urging her with my gestures. But she shakes her head, giving me a small smile, "Are you okay?"

"I could be better," I answer, humored slightly. "Are _you_ okay?"

"I don't know," she says truthfully.

I mutter under my breath, "Loomer's a jackass."

Moze gives me a lopsided smile. "I guess it could be worse."

"Really?" I say disbelievingly. "How so?"

"Well, for one, he could have busted you up even worse," she responds, totally getting analytical, "I mean, you're lucky you got out of the war with just a bloody nose and one black eye."

"Uh-huh, well..."

"Then, you know, there's the total polar opposite. I mean, what if you tried to tackle him and completely missed? Like the tree all over again? You remember that, right?"

I grunt out something that hardly resembled a yes.

"Then you would have _horrifically_ embarrassed, Ned Bigby. Horrifically embarrassed!"

"I get it, Moze."

"Then Coconut Head would have had to lunge himself out there to come save you. Then you both would have black eyes."

Moze covers her mouth, giggling so contagiously that I can't help but join in, even though I wonder if I should be happy or worried that she is laughing after what happened three hours ago. In mere seconds, we are both sprawled on the carpet, laughing over nothing and everything at the same time.

"Oh my God, I don't think I've laughed like that in a long time," Moze says, wiping her eyes and sitting up. "Kind of ironic, isn't it?"

_Not really,_ I think as she pulls her hair out of its messy bun and straightens the strands with her fingers. Her smile disappears slowly, a vanishing second guessing my actions, I reach out and cup her face gently. She looks up, her eyes wandering my face.

"I'm sorry," I say softly, stroking her cheek.

"Thank you, Ned," Moze whispers.

Carefully, I move aside her hair and place a light kiss on her forehead, just as I catch a glimpse of Saturday morning sunlight seeping through the blinds. I close my eyes, savoring the moment. Maybe I really did fuck up tonight. Maybe I missed the biggest chance with Moze; maybe there won't be another one quite like it. And maybe I need to dreadfully sign up for some martial arts classes. But we are here together, me and Moze, a warm feeling filling me up in indescribable ways. That had to count for something.


	6. Chapter 6

_**TIP 6: Lists don't do you any good.**_

Things I Love About Her

1) Her quintessential beauty; the fact that she can walk into a room with sweats, no make-up and her hair tied back, and still look like the most beautiful thing in the world.

2) How tough and strong she is; how she seems to brave everything with a held head and a broken smile.

3) How charismatic she is with everyone she meets; how she acts like a grown-up, even when she's upset.

4) How she'd do anything for a friend, even if it meant total social ridicule.

5) The little things, hidden in nooks and crannies, tucked far into forgotten creases.

6) There's an image of her at summer camp in the 7th grade, sitting at the dock alone and documenting into a small notebook, while everyone else is jumping in the ocean.

7) There's that time, moments after Suzie and I broke up, that I rested my head on the crook of Moze's shoulder as she held me around my waist, and I realized that nothing felt safer or truer than being in her arms.

8) There's that moment when she slipped at the ice rink and quickly pulled herself up, smiling and blushing as she skated the rest of the way to me.

9) Then there are her most vulnerable moments; moments I think make me love her because I'm the only one who gets to see them.

10) Moments like when sometimes after school, she would turn up the volume of her favorite Radiohead album, close her eyes tight, and breathe in and out, finding rhythms within the gaps.

11) Moments like when, after being hurt again and again, she suddenly lifts her face up and gives me a slight, as if to assure me that she'll be okay.

12) Moments like when her parents are fighting, and she presses her back against the wall of her door and squeezes her eyes together and wills herself not to cry, and suddenly, I realize that when she hurts, I'm the one who's bruised.

13) Moments like this: when she leans her head on my shoulder, squeezes my hand, and I wonder what on earth makes me feel like I deserve every bit of it.


End file.
